It's Jo, Not Molly
by foreverHenry919
Summary: Henry realizes that Molly has helped him to open up but not to her. To Jo.


The sofa in the waiting area of the NYC Health Center felt cold as if unaffected by the mild temperature in the room. Henry shifted uncomfortably atop the hardness of its wooden foundation despite the padding over it and underneath the light blue fabric. Jo turned from the window and sat back down on the sofa, her sympathetic gaze once again fixed on her unofficial crime-solving partner.

"Forgot what this feels like," Henry said, his voice quiet but strained, eyes fixed straight ahead but focused on nothing.

"What's that?" Jo softly asked.

He sighed before answering. "Being scared. Vulnerable." He lowered his gaze a bit.

"That's what happens, Henry, when you open yourself up."

"Yes. I suppose so." Worry and concern waged a battle for dominance across his countenance. He shifted his position again and rested his chin against his right fist.

"It's a good thing," she encouraged him. "I'm sure that Molly is going to be - " The rest of her statement was cut off as the doctor who'd performed emergency surgery on Molly Dawes after she'd been attacked by a deranged college student, appeared before them at the hallway entrance.

"Dr. Morgan?" Dr. Gwen Hughes, on staff with the hospital for the past eight years, was familiar with the Medical Examiner and his work with the NYPD. Despite talk and some evidence of him skinny dipping from time to time, she followed his crime-solving exploits in the papers and highly respected and admired him for his work as a medical professional. This was her first time interacting with him, however, and she felt it best to treat him as she would any other concerned family member or close friend of one of her patients.

Henry quickly stood up and anxiously waited to hear of the outcome of Molly's surgery.

"The patient's out of surgery," Dr. Hughes quietly informed him. "She lost a lot of blood but she's going to be okay."

Henry released a quick sigh of relief and asked, "Can I see her now?"

"Uh, well, it's best that she rest," the medical woman gently insisted.

Henry seemed to deflate, hanging his head slightly and drooping his shoulders.

Jo reluctantly displayed her badge to the doctor and gently urged, "Um, NYPD. Let him in."

Dr. Hughes relented and nodded. Henry nodded a thanks to Jo and followed the doctor down the hall to Molly's hospital room.

A faint smile on her lips, Jo watched the doctors' retreating forms, then turned and walked in the opposite direction toward a coffee vending machine she'd spotted on their way in. She deposited exact change as instructed by the faded magic marker wording on a yellow sticky near the coin receptacle.

 _'How nice. Molly's a lucky woman. Henry seems to care a lot for her.'_

She punched a button and waited for her selection of strong, black coffee with extra sugar to finish vending. She then slid the small, plastic door aside and retrieved the cup of piping hot brew. As she blew on it to cool it off before sipping, the terrified look in Henry's eyes came to her again.

Just a couple of hours earlier, they'd both been horrified at the sight of the deranged college student, Jennifer Schroeder, sticking a small paring knife into the neck of a profusely bleeding Molly as she held her down while she bled out. The cop in Jo had reacted well from the adrenaline rush as she'd contained Schroeder, cuffed her, and called for a bus. Another murder suspect apprehended, she'd matter-of-factly told herself.

But at the sound of Molly's shaky-voiced "My ... my ... hero" to Henry, a sudden and unexpected twinge of jealousy shot through her. Molly certainly was lucky to have a man like Henry in her life, she thought. His oldfashioned gentlemanly ways allowed him to easily fit into hero status. He was thoughtful, intelligent, and genuinely cared for others. She always felt safe with him. It didn't hurt that he possessed charming good lucks and with his expensive style of dress he should have graced the cover of GQ several times.

She'd inhaled deeply a couple of times to shake off these thoughts and jealous twinges and instead had chosen to concentrate her efforts on keeping a wild-eyed Schroeder contained until the bus arrived.

Jo's phone buzzing brought her out of her thoughts. She retrieved it from her coat pocket and swiped the image of the pulsating rotary phone receiver to answer the call from her official partner, Det. Mike Hanson.

"Hey, Mike." Her voice didn't sound professional enough to her ears so she cleared her throat.

 _("You okay?" he asked, suddenly concerned by the low register of her voice.)_

"Yeah, yeah, fine," she replied, raising the pitch of her voice and flicking a loose strand of hair impatiently away from her face. "What's up?"

 _("Just called to find out how the Doc's girlfriend, Molly Dawes, is doing.")_

Girlfriend. Another twinge of jealousy hit her but she managed to keep her voice calm as she replied.

"She, um, just got out of surgery not too long ago. Her doctor says she's going to recover despite having lost a lot of blood." She nodded at his relieved response.

"Yeah, Henry's in with her now."

 _("Okay." He hesitated before asking, "You sure you're okay? You sound a bit down in the dumps.")_

"I sound a bit _tired_ ," she corrected him, hoping he didn't catch the irritation in her voice. But she knew that she must sound upset to him because of the recurring twinges of jealousy _._ And annoyance with herself for not doing a better job of concealing her emotions. She nodded again and rolled her eyes at his instructions for her to go home and get some rest.

 _("Henry can handle things from here," he assured her.")_

"Right. Nite, Mike. See you Monday." Genuinely touched by his concern and for the fact that tomorrow was Saturday, a smile broke out briefly on her face as she ended the call. She walked slowly back to the waiting area and noticed Henry approaching her from the hallway, his visit with Molly ended.

vvvv

Henry closed the door to Molly's room and stood in the hallway, momentarily uncertain about what he'd do next. He was thankful that her wound was not fatal and that she would soon fully recover. At the same time, guilt washed over him at the memory of her quietly accepting his change of heart and ending their brief relationship.

Quite the cad you turned out to be, he grimly noted of himself. But he felt that he would have been more of a cad if he'd continued their relationship, admittedly based purely on physical attraction. He'd intended to allow Molly to satisfy his raw curiosity about her dominatrix profession in every way possible. In every position possible. He shook his head, not feeling very proud of himself for that.

In his long life, he'd learned it was better to avoid emotional attachments with others; especially with any of his lovers. The less known about each other, the fewer personal questions would arise. This helped to keep his heart and, more importantly, his secret safe. But he was caring to a fault and whenever the wellbeing of another - lover or not - was in peril, his emotions would bubble up and erase the gray of that person, coloring them with humanity and reminding him that they, too, had personal needs. Needs that he invariably chose not to fulfill, instead severing the usually tenuous connection. The guilt of using someone else to satisfy his own personal needs would overwhelm him, preventing him from doing so.

Today it had happened again. Worry and concern over Molly had caused him to see her through new eyes; to see her as a person. As human, vulnerable and caring as anyone else. After he and Jo had managed to rescue her from Jennifer Schroeder, she'd gratefully breathed out to him that he was her hero. He'd felt like nothing of the sort then and now. As they'd waited for medical help to arrive, he'd pressed his scarf against her neck wound to staunch the bleeding. By the time they'd arrived and taken charge of her care, he knew that he had to end it between them. He realized that worry and concern over her did not translate into genuine feelings for her. The inklings of them, yes, but for some reason, not enough for him to want to explore them. At least, not with her. He hadn't fully realized who he'd like to explore these feelings with until he'd sat in the waiting area with Jo. His partner. His friend. His ... what was she exactly to him? What were they to each other?

Of course, he'd been on pins and needles worrying over Molly and her condition. He'd fought back the guilt of having involved her in their investigation and, therefore, having placed her in danger. But the familiar experience of his emotions bubbling up while waiting with Jo by his side were undeniably for Jo and stronger than any he'd felt for Molly. He'd gradually admitted to himself that since the day they'd first met and made eye contact last September in the morgue when she'd walked in, those inklings of feelings had sparked and had grown stronger. It would be unfair to Molly, he concluded, to pursue an empty, one-sided relationship with her while his true feelings were for Jo.

He found himself already at the end of the hallway and in the waiting area again. He smiled as she approached him, gingerly holding a piping hot paper cup of coffee with her fingers.

"Yum. Looks tasty," he teased with a slight grin.

"Oh, absolutely," she mock-frowned, shaking her head. They both chuckled softly then quieted down. "How's she doing, Henry? That looked so scary; that Jennifer holding her down like that, sticking a knife into her neck." She shuddered at the remembrance of the scene.

"Like the doctor said, she's going to recover. Physically, anyway. She may require therapy to get beyond the emotional scars," he thoughtfully added.

"Well, she's lucky to have a good friend like you to help her through," she said with a smile.

He hesitated before replying. "Yes. Although, I'm not sure how good a friend she thinks I am right now." He sighed and pursed his lips as they both turned to walk further up the hallway and back towards the elevators. "We've, uh, agreed not to see each other anymore."

They now stood in front of the elevators. Jo finally chose to abandon her cup of piping hot but tasteless brew by tossing it into a nearby trash receptacle that resembled a stainless steel R2D2. She turned to face him with a look of genuine concern.

"Oh. I'm, uh, sorry," she stammered out. "Guess this whole mess was just too much for her to handle. Sometimes these cases can be too much for even seasoned cops to handle."

"It wasn't the case ... per se," he replied. "Although what happened to her today does have some bearing on it." He preferred not to go into detail for that would mean he'd have to reveal to Jo, his feelings for her. And he wasn't quite sure if either of them was ready for that. He studied her and was surprised by her look of ... what? Hopefulness? Expectation? It reminded him briefly of the look that Abigail had given him shortly after they'd met and he'd blushingly asked her out on a formal date. Her eyes had sparkled as she'd smiled and accepted. He wondered if Jo's eyes would sparkle like that if he ... if they ...

A mechanical, female voice announced the arrival of the elevator along with a loud boop sound. They stepped in and he punched the button for the Lobby. As they rode down in silence, both pondered their own thoughts of their growing feelings for each other but chose not to share them.

Henry had been right. Jo did feel hopeful and she used it to soothe those twinges of jealousy she'd felt earlier. But just because he dumped poor Molly, she ruefully told herself, doesn't mean he'd want anything to do with you. We're partners. Professional partners. And friends. That's all. She smiled again at him as they got into her assigned police vehicle. She at the helm, he riding shotgun.

He returned her smile as they buckled themselves in. The usual jostle to stretch the seatbelts out and click them into their latches caused their shoulders to rub briefly. Henry immediately retreated to his side of the car, nearer the door and swallowed as the brief contact warmed him from his chest up to his neck, up to his ears and to his eyes. Something akin to the feeling of the numbing warmth he always felt after a third glass of champagne.

Well, that seals it, he thought. I not only have feelings for this woman - this sweet, loyal, wonderful friend of mine - but I'm definitely attracted to her. He looked at her as she finished buckling her seatbelt and started the car, seemingly unaffected by their brief shoulder rub. Then he saw her swallow, just as he had. Saw her eyelids flutter a bit as she checked the mirrors before moving the car. Is it possible my feelings for her could be reciprocated? he asked himself. Do I dare ask her out on a ... date?

Jo's shoulder was still warmed by their brief contact. Nicely warmed all the length of her arm, down to her now tingling fingers. She hoped that Henry hadn't noticed as she'd fumbled a bit before getting the key into the ignition. What is this, Martinez? So he's not with Molly anymore. That doesn't mean that he's interested in you.

As she pulled up to the antiques shop and idled the car, expecting him to thank her as he exited the car, she was slightly confused when he remained seated. She turned off the ignition and looked over at him. Then she noticed the look on his face as if he were mentally practicing a speech and getting up the nerve to ask her something. She was a cop. She noticed these things. And she also noticed the twinkle in his eyes as he turned a smiling face to her. What was behind that twinkle and that smile?

She hadn't seen an expression like that since when Sean, at the end of their first date, a blind date, had hesitantly told her how much he'd enjoyed her company and had asked her out again. This time for real, he'd told her. She waited with breathless anticipation for what Henry was working up the nerve to say to her.

"Jo, would you mind ... I mean ... would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?" His smile faded and his eyes grew wider as he grew more animated. "I would ask you out tonight, but tonight is definitely out of the question because it's been a long day and I know you're tired, so - "

"Henry. Yes." She smiled broadly as he calmed down and his smile returned at her acceptance. "I'd love to."

"Tomorrow night, then," he said, dipping his head quickly to the side with a lop-sided grin. "Say around 7:00?" She nodded, smiling. He hesitated once again before exiting the car. She could have sworn that he appeared to be slowly leaning closer to her. Or was she meeting him halfway? There was a warm haze between them now, their faces only inches apart. The twinkle in Henry's eyes was gone. It had been replaced with a dark smolder that met the longing in hers. His eyes dropped to her lips then back up to meet her eyes again. Her breath hitched in her throat as he leaned in closer, their breaths warming each other's cheeks.

"A first kiss should be saved for the first date," he finally whispered, deep and throaty. He then grasped her right hand, raised it up and kissed her fingers one by one, causing the warmth to return to her arm and her fingers to tingle again. He released her hand and said, "Til tomorrow night." He finally exited the car and walked into the shop, locking the door behind him and flipping the sign to Closed. He stood and smiled at her as she drove away.

"Ohhhhh, that man, that ... grrrrr." The way he'd teased her into thinking he was going to kiss her only to have kissed her fingers ... one by one like that. "Where did he learn that?" She talked loudly out loud to herself as she drove herself to her Washington Heights home. Once she'd arrived, she parked the car and banged the steering wheel with her fist.

"Now I'm going to remember that finger-kissing trick of his and not get any sleep all night long!" She exited the car and trotted up the steps to her door and unlocked it. Once inside, she looked up into the night sky and a smile crept onto her lips.

"Tomorrow night." Her smile broadened. "7:00." And she closed the door. So she'd dream about Henry all night long. Who could ask for better dreams?

Notes: _

Takes place during final scenes of Forever TV S01/E16 "Memories of Murder". And the NYS Foundation Health Center name exists solely for the sake of this little tale.


End file.
